Prodigals' Return
by Laura of Maychoria
Summary: When he came back to practice after his ill-considered abandonment, Ennoshita was surprised to see that Narita and Kinoshita had returned, too. Maybe they were all thinking the same thing, though. They just couldn't stay away.


**A/N:** More prompt fics! This is from my dear crollalanzaa:

 _Okay, how about ... the second years, particularly the three errant second years (Ennoshita, Narita and Kinoshita) , and what happened after they first returned to practise. Maybe they went out to get coffee together. Possibly Noya and Tanaka joined them..._

* * *

Ennoshita didn't share a class with Kinoshita and Narita, so he was surprised when he came back to practice and found that they had returned as well. The three of them eyed each other sheepishly from across the gym. Kinoshita looked down, and Narita scuffed his foot on the floor. Ennoshita looked around, but he didn't see the other two who had quit with them.

All five of them had gone at once. They had had a chat after practice—Ennoshita couldn't remember the particulars now. Something about how volleyball wasn't fun anymore, like it had been in middle school. They were all sick of being exhausted and run ragged at practice every day. Narita said he kept falling asleep on his homework and his mom yelled at him. Ennoshita had nodded. He was always tired, always. He didn't like being yelled at it. It wasn't fun.

It was Kinoshita who first voiced what was on all of their minds. "We could... We could...quit. It's just a club. An after-school activity. None of us signed a contract."

They all fell silent, staring at each other and the ground. No one said, "Yeah, that's true." No one said, "I've been thinking about quitting, now that you mention it." No one said, "I'm not gonna come back tomorrow."

But the taboo had been broken. Now that it had been said aloud, they all knew that they had been wanting the same thing. They wanted relief. They didn't want to spend their time and energy on a sport that only took and took from them, physically, mentally, and emotionally, and never seemed to give anything back.

The next day, Ennoshita didn't go to practice. Tanaka found him in the hall a few days later and asked him what was going on, said all of the first-years except Tanaka and Nishinoya had quit coming on the same day. Tanaka was hurt, confused. He wondered if they were staging a mutiny or something like that.

"Nothing so dramatic," Ennoshita said softly. "We were just tired, that's all."

Because he didn't share a class with any of the others, Ennoshita hadn't known that they had all quit at the same time. No, that was lie. He knew. After that little talk, after Kinoshita said what they were all thinking, he knew. But he didn't want to tell Tanaka that.

Tanaka frowned, his eyes large and pleading. "Just tired?" he asked, and there was hope in his voice. "Does that mean you'll come back when you've rested up a bit?"

Tanaka didn't understand. He loved volleyball. He seemed to have endless energy, endless enthusiasm. He took the grueling practices and the yells of the coach as encouragement rather than a burden. And he was talented, unlike Ennoshita, who could never seem to do anything right. There was no way he could understand.

"You'll come back, right?" Tanaka prompted, when Ennoshita said nothing. "Right? Hey, Ennoshita. You'll come back, won't you?"

Ennoshita stared at the floor, then finally raised his eyes to meet Tanaka's earnest gaze. "No," he said. Calm, solid, final. "I won't."

But he had. Once it had time to sink in what he'd done, what a coward he had been, how weak and foolish and useless, Ennoshita had come back. He knew he wasn't talented. He knew it wasn't going to be fun like it had been in middle school. He knew it would be harsh and grueling and exhausting. But he couldn't stay away.

He loved volleyball. He had to play, even if it was just in practices that took everything he had to give and gave nothing back, even if he could never stand on the court and play in a game, even if he would always be overshadowed by people with more skill and more drive and more energy and enthusiasm and...everything.

He had to play.

But the coach wasn't there anymore. When Ennoshita stepped into the gym door, quiet and hesitant, hoping that he'd be able to fade into the background without much fanfare, Tanaka had spotted him and lit up like a firecracker. He yelled in greeting and bounced over to grab Ennoshita by the shoulders and drag him inside, crowing all the way.

"You came back! You said you wouldn't but you did, you son of a gun! It's good to see you!"

Ennoshita looked around, wary, and wasn't surprised to see most of the senpai frowning and shaking their heads as they glanced in their direction. He didn't know if their disgust was aimed at him, though, or at the typically over-loud Tanaka. "Yeah, I came back," he said quietly. "I'm sorry I quit. I couldn't help myself, though. I want to play volleyball."

"Of course you do!" Tanaka hooted and slung an arm around Ennoshita's neck, pulling him so close and tight that Ennoshita almost choked. "It's the best sport in the world! Who wouldn't want to play?"

 _At least five people,_ Ennoshita thought but didn't say. It wouldn't be kind. Instead he just offered a small, sheepish smile. "I'll do my best. I'll take my scolding from the coach like a man and work hard to make up for lost time."

Oddly, Tanaka deflated at this. His arm loosened from Ennoshita's neck, and he stood back, his expression falling. "The coach?"

"Yes, Coach Ukai." Ennoshita blinked, surprised that he'd had to clarify. Did they have another volleyball coach? He looked around, but didn't the see the old battle axe anywhere in the gym. "Where is he? I need to offer my apologies and ask his permission to return."

Tanaka scratched his cheek with one finger. "I thought you already knew. I figured that was why you came back now."

Ennoshita blinked at him. "You thought I knew what?"

"Coach Ukai isn't here. He collapsed a couple of days ago, and the sensei says he can't come back because of his health. We don't have a coach anymore."

Ennoshita's head spun. He didn't know if he was happy or sad. This meant practices wouldn't be as hard, and only the senpai would be yelling at them to run faster, push harder, spike straighter, receive better, suffer more. But he had steeled to himself to return to that man's tutelage, knowing that it would improve him as a volleyball player and as a person. Now he felt like the wind had been taken out of sails and he was suddenly adrift, rudderless.

Tanaka stared at him. "You really didn't know." His voice was wondering. "And you came back anyway?" A small grin appeared, then grew. "Wow, Ennoshita! You really do love volleyball. I'm so happy!"

Ennoshita stared. "Ah. Okay."

Tanaka crossed his arms over his chest and lifted up on his toes, grinning with pure delight. "I mean, I figured that that was why those guys came back today, too. But maybe they don't know either! Maybe you all just really want to play volleyball!"

"Those...guys...?"

Tanaka tilted his head across the gym. "Those guys! You all came back at the same time, right after we found out Coach Ukai isn't coming back... Is it really a coincidence?"

Ennoshita looked. Narita and Kinoshita stood over there, watching him sheepishly. Narita was staring at the floor, nudging it with the toe of his volleyball shoe, while Kinoshita slowly changed into a t-shirt for practice, his face flaming red and his eyes averted.

In a daze, Ennoshita moved over to meet them. "Narita? Kinoshita? Did you know about the coach?"

Kinoshita glanced up at him, then away. "I might have heard something in the bread line," he muttered. "But that's not why I came back."

Narita cut a glance to him. "You didn't mention it." He drew in a breath and faced Ennoshita straight on. "He's telling the truth. That's not why we came back. We...we've been talking about it for a while."

"Oh." Ennoshita remembered, belatedly, that Narita and Kinoshita were in the same class. They probably hung out and talked all the time. He hadn't realized. They seemed like good friends, now, closer than Ennoshita would have expected after just a month or two of not seeing them regularly.

He'd cut himself off from a lot of things when he tried to quit the volleyball club.

"Um..." Ennoshita scuffed his foot on the floor. "I believe you. I do. Do you wanna maybe...go get curry buns after practice?"

Maybe they could talk, or something. A different kind of conversation than the one they'd had right before they all quit.

It had been a long time since he'd gone and gotten food with friends, too. Without a club to meet with the afternoon, he'd had no reason to stick around after school, no reason to be hungry on his way home. What had he been doing all this time? Just going home and watching movies and anime? Gloating over his poster collection? Eating pudding?

Homework? Had he been doing a lot of homework?

No, no more than usual. Yet another wave of shame washed Ennoshita at the thought. Instead of filling the time suddenly on his hands with useful work or bettering himself in some way, he had only frittered it away. What a waste. What an unforgivable waste.

Narita nodded almost too quickly. "Yeah, curry buns. That sounds great. I'll sure we'll be hungry after practice."

Kinoshita nodded, too. "Sounds good." His voice was subdued, but sincere.

"Hey, yeah!" Tanaka bounced up behind and threw an arm around Ennoshita's shoulders again, almost knocking him into the others. "Me and Noya-san will come too! It'll be fun!"

Narita and Kinoshita glanced at each other, then nodded cautiously. Ennoshita sighed. Tanaka was a good guy, but they would have been able to have a more open conversation if he wasn't there to overhear.

But then, Tanaka and Nishinoya did more than anyone else on the team to make Ennoshita and the others feel like they were welcome at practice, despite their long absence. Without a coach, it was up to the senpai to lead them in drills and exercises, and while the third-years weren't exactly cold, they didn't quite welcome the prodigal first-years back with open arms, either. The nicest second-year, Sugawara, gave them warm smiles and encouraging comments, but Sawamura frowned a lot. Azumane seemed embarrassed to look at them.

It was awkward. It was uncomfortable. Ennoshita had known this would be difficult, but he hadn't anticipated just how out-of-place he would feel.

He just had to give himself over to the practice. His muscles burned after the weeks of inactivity, and he was shocked by how much weaker he had become, how much he had lost. Envy pricked his heart as he watched Tanaka and Nishinoya run and receive and spike—their movements were so smooth, so powerful and seemingly effortless. It wasn't just talent. It was hard work, too. Those two worked harder for their sport than anyone Ennoshita had ever met.

If he worked hard, really hard, could he someday maybe approach that level of skill? Ennoshita would never be as powerful as Tanaka, as precise as Nishinoya, but surely he could be useful, right? Eventually? He just wanted to play.

He didn't know. He didn't know if he would ever make it, or how long it would take. But he had to try. Determination firm in his heart, like a solid stone he could grab with both hands and grip with whitened knuckles, Ennoshita poured himself into the work.

And Nishinoya and Tanaka were so _happy._ They ran and leaped and laughed and yelled, all but crackling with energy and enthusiasm. They were just this side of manic, honestly, and even the senpai were a bit taken aback.

Tanaka and Nishinoya drove Ennoshita and the other first-years to work harder, to keep at it despite their weariness and clumsiness. Ennoshita started to get used to being thumped on the back. To Tanaka's voice yelling in his ear. To Nishinoya's ridiculous moves clattering over the floor and echoing in the rafters.

After practice, the first-years cleaned up. Narita was dragging, Kinoshita was yawning, and Ennoshita barely kept his feet. Tanaka and Nishinoya did most of the work, but they didn't seem to mind at all. Ennoshita wondered where their boundless energy came from.

"All right, curry buns!" Tanaka yelled when they were done, throwing an arm around Narita on one side and Ennoshita on the other and dragging them out the door. They had no choice but to go, Kinoshita and Nishinoya bringing up the rear.

"How are you still so energetic?" Ennoshita asked, doing his utmost to keep his voice from slurring.

"I bet it's because he sleeps through class." Kinoshita snickered behind them, and Tanaka let go of Narita so he could glare back at him.

"What makes you say that?" Tanaka's voice was full of faux-outrage.

Kinoshita shrugged, his eyes bland. "Our classroom is next door to yours. I heard the teacher scolding you."

Tanaka humphed and looked forward again, still dragging Ennoshita by the shoulder. "As if I care about that." He took the teasing in good humor, his enthusiasm undiminished.

"Ryuu!" Nishinoya laughed and leaped onto Tanaka's back, finally knocking Ennoshita free. "Carry me to the Foothill Store!"

"Of course, Noya-san!" Tanaka roared, and he took off, carrying Nishinoya on his back, both of them hooting and hollering with intemperate joy.

Ennoshita, Narita, and Kinoshita followed much more slowly. Now pretty much alone on the street, they looked at each other warily. Ennoshita opened his mouth, then closed it. He didn't really know what he wanted to say. Was there any point in saying anything at all?

Narita shrugged uncomfortably. "So yeah... We'd been talking about coming back for a while."

Ennoshita nodded slowly. "Me too. Thinking about it, I mean. I didn't know about Coach Ukai."

"Neither did we."

"Do you think the senpai will ever believe that?" Kinoshita asked. "They all think we came back because we thought volleyball would be easy from now on. You saw how hard they drove us, the looks they gave us."

"I didn't mind," Ennoshita said quietly. _I deserved it._

"They weren't all like that," Narita said. "Sugawara-san... He took me aside and thanked me for coming back. He said Nishinoya and Tanaka haven't been this happy and loud since we left."

The three of them looked forward to the two idiots, who were rapidly disappearing down the street.

"It was probably just because they didn't want to clean up by themselves anymore," Kinoshita said.

Narita shoved his shoulder, making him stumble sideways over the pavement. "Don't be ungrateful, Kino. Tanaka and Noya want us back for ourselves, not for what we can do. It's obvious in their faces."

Kinoshita grunted.

"It doesn't matter," Ennoshita said. The others looked at him. He met their eyes. "It doesn't matter what they think of me. What any of them think of me. I came back because I want to play volleyball. Even if..." He paused and drew a painful breath. "Even if I'll never be able to play in a game, even if I'll never be as good as Tanaka and Nishinoya. Even if I ruined my chances by being an unforgivable coward and wasting all this time. I still want to play."

The other two were silent, taking this in.

Kinoshita was the first to look away, his face flushing. "I feel the same," he muttered.

Narita nodded.

Ennoshita pulled in a deep breath and faced forward. "Then we have to work hard, that's all. We'll have to prove ourselves and never, ever give up again."

They were quiet.

Then, "You should hang out with us more, Ennoshita," Narita said, his voice somehow light and solemn at the same time. "You're a really good guy. Kino and I would do better with you around."

"Speak for yourself," Kinoshita growled, shoving him with his hands on his back. Narita laughed and let himself be pushed along the street.

Ahead of them, Tanaka and Nishinoya were waiting outside the store, jumping up and down and waving at them to hurry up. Narita grabbed Kinoshita's collar and dashed forward, dragging him along, and Ennoshita followed as quickly as he could. Despite himself, he could feel a grin start to show on his face, small at first, then growing and growing.

This was only the beginning. Yeah, they had messed up, but they could try again. They would work and practice and push themselves to the limit, every day, for the sport and the team they loved. And now, after weeks and weeks of solitary time-wasting, Ennoshita wasn't alone. His companions weren't perfect, but they were great despite their faults. Maybe because of them. Tanaka, Nishinoya, Narita, Kinoshita. Strong, talented, empathetic, sarcastic. It was a good group of people, even if half of them were idiots.

Narita was right. They should definitely hang out more often. And they would start today, with curry buns after volleyball practice.


End file.
